They walked into Manny’s together, and Gabe curbed the ridiculous impulse to rush forward and get the door for her.
“Hey, Bobbi,” a chorus of male voices called as she walked in.
“Come over here and settle a bet will you?” It sounded like Jason, but Gabe couldn’t be sure, there were too many bodies between them and the voice.
Gabe watched with a frown as she wove her way through the tables that were scattered haphazardly around the pub’s floor to make her way to the bar where a random group of their friends were gathered. The men were all laughing and talking loudly and the tall, bulky frames soon enveloped Bobbi’s slight figure as she disappeared from his line of sight completely. Irritated, he stepped forward, determined to reclaim his lunch date. He could hear her quiet voice above the deeper voices of the men, and they all paused for a beat before an eruption of whoops and groans went up in response to whatever she’d said or done. Money exchanged hands and curious now, Gabe stepped into the throng. Bobbi was grinning impishly.
“Gabe,” Jason eventually noticed him and slapped him on the back enthusiastically. “Good to see you, man! I just wanted Bobbi to do that thing with the dart. My old university buddies are visiting and wouldn’t believe it until they saw it.”
“What thing?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t the same “thing” he had warned Bobbi against doing years before.
“You know,” Jason prompted with a laugh. “When she balances the sharp end of a dart on the bridge of her nose?”
Damn it! The crazy woman could put an eye out with that stunt. He found her defiant eyes through the crowd of still laughing men and she angled her stubborn jaw upward, obviously daring him to say something about it. He bit back the words of censure, not wanting to be too predictable and knowing that while she was braced for them they would have little to no impact on her.
“You ready for lunch yet?” he asked pointedly and saw the flicker of surprise on her face before she nodded. He made a sweeping gesture with his arm as he sarcastically ushered her toward one of the empty tables in the middle of the room. She kept her head down as she passed him and when he turned to nod his farewell to Jason he noticed that all of the other man’s friends had their stares firmly fixed on Bobbi’s derriere and naked thighs. He barely refrained from shoving the guy closest to him, the one who was actually tilting his damned head for a better view and instead took immense satisfaction in placing his own bulk between Bobbi’s departing figure and the leering gazes of the gathered men.
She was already sitting down when he reached the table and took the seat opposite hers, fighting back an irrational surge of anger and frustration when he saw the slight indent and red mark on the bridge of her cute nose. The minute mark marred her pale, smooth skin and seeing it there aggravated him beyond measure. She was watching him warily, but he refrained from commenting and merely called over a waitress and then waited for a long irritating moment while Bobbi perused the familiar menu for ages before placing her order of calamari and chips. He didn’t bother to glance at the menu and instead ordered his usual fare.
Bobbi snorted when she heard his order and he inclined his head in question.
“What?”
“They do have other stuff here, Gabe,” she elaborated—her voice lightly frosted with scorn. “But you always order the ribs, chips, and salad.”
“I know they have other stuff here,” he countered, his tone measured as he arranged the condiments to his liking. “And I’ve tried them all but I like the ribs the most. I don’t see why I should order anything else when I know that this is what I like best.”
“Some variety wouldn’t kill you, you know?” She groused as she very deliberately rearranged the bottles that he had painstakingly placed in order of preference. “It’s okay to order the steak instead of the ribs. It’s perfectly fine to get a buzz cut or grow your hair down past your collar.” Her eyes went up to his conservatively cut and parted hair, and it took every ounce of his willpower to refrain from self-consciously raking his fingers through said hair. Instead he focused on putting the bottles back into order, ignoring her snort of amusement.
“And while we’re at it, it’s all right to date a dumb brunette once in a while instead of a brainy blonde. I swear to God, that bloodless parade of boring blondes you date has sucked every ounce of life and fun out of you.”
“I suppose I should be more like you?” he murmured scathingly, raking his eyes over her scruffy figure scornfully. It nearly killed him not to linger over her silky smooth legs and pert breasts but he had a point to prove. “More careless and carefree? You live your life without any structure or order, Bobbi. Sure you’ve managed to open that shop but you have no real business plan and you have everything vested in that damned car of Jason’s. What will you do if, or more likely when, that plan fails? It would behoove you to be less carefree and more responsible. You now have employees—people who, unfathomably enough, depend on you for their livelihood. Maybe it’s time to stop being such a child. Stop balancing darts on your nose, racing motorcycles at the track, and dressing like a two-bit little . . .” He stopped himself before he completed the sentence but her wide eyes told him that she knew exactly what he’d been about to say. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried to apologize but the words wouldn’t come.
They sat in silence until the waitress brought their food, avoiding eye contact at all costs, and Gabe felt like a complete bastard for the unspoken word that now hovered between them.
“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” She suddenly broke the loaded silence—her voice small and uncertain.
“Nothing.”
“But you said . . .”
“Look I was being an idiot.” He kept his eyes firmly on his plate.
“You wouldn’t have mentioned it if you didn’t think there was something wrong with my clothing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your clothing,” he snapped.
“Don’t lie to me!” she snapped right back at him.
“Jesus.” This time he did rake a frustrated hand through his hair. “Look, those shorts are just too . . . short okay? And um . . .” He waved his fork at her chest area, trying not to look and then totally looking. God, she had pretty breasts . . . Focus, Gabe! “Wear a damned bra, for God’s sake! You keep flashing those nipples at me and I won’t be responsible for my actions.” And then, as if the mere word had conjured them into being, there they were again, tightening against the soft material of her tank top, unfurling like perfect little rosebuds right beneath his very eyes. And this time he couldn’t help but focus directly on them; he couldn’t drag his eyes away from them. He lost his train of thought and felt sweat beading on his brow and above his lip, felt it pooling beneath his arms and in the center of his chest.
Want! Need! Now!
CHAPTER FIVE
The three words blindsided him and rang like a bell in his mind. His throat went dry with the astonishing realization that this wasn’t some bizarre, fleeting aberration. That he really wanted her and would continue wanting her until he had done something about it.
Under him, over him, in front of him—he wanted her any way he could have her . . . He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath and it was insane! He dragged his apologetic eyes up to her embarrassed golden regard. How the hell did you tell your friend that you wanted to sleep with her? But that that’s all you wanted from her. He was honest enough to admit that he desperately wanted to have sex with her—why now, after all these years? He had no clue but that was what he wanted. What he didn’t want was anything more than that. He loved her but she wasn’t a woman he could ever envision spending his life with. They were too different. The woman of his dreams was tall, graceful, refined, and had an immaculate sense of style and design. Bobbi was the complete opposite of that woman.
But how could he propose no-strings sex to this woman who meant so much to him and expect to still retain a friendship after the affair ended? Bobbi would expect more from him and
he could very well wind up breaking her heart. That thought was perfectly unbearable.
Bobbi folded her arms tightly across her chest and lowered her eyes to her plate, she knew that her cheeks were blazing with color but she couldn’t do much about that at the moment. She wished that the floor would just open up and swallow her—she was so embarrassed. Thankfully he wasn’t staring at her traitorous breasts anymore; instead he was focused intently on his plate, with his jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists on the table. He was concentrating so fiercely on that plate that she half expected it to start levitating.
“I’m sorry . . .” The words were so quiet they were practically swallowed up by the buzzing conversations of the crowd around them, and if not for the fact that he had raised his blazing eyes to meet hers, Bobbi would have dismissed it as imagination. “That was completely out of line.”
“Which part? Your comment about the way I dressed or your reference to my . . .” She nodded down at her breasts which were still shielded by her crossed arms. She watched as his eyes drifted back down to her chest and lingered for a long moment before jerking back up to her face.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“I made it personal—I shouldn’t have brought your . . . your body into it,” he admitted.
“It was already personal when you criticized the way I dressed,” she pointed out.
“Bobbi, we’re surrounded by men, not all of whom know you . . . and those shorts would tempt a saint.” She was riveted by the dull red that stained his cheekbones and narrowed her eyes as an intriguing possibility occurred to her.
“Do they tempt you?” Right—she needed a filter between her brain and her mouth—because she couldn’t keep saying every single thing that popped into her head. Yet . . . the red stain on his cheekbones darkened and spread inexorably.
“No! Of course not . . .” She kept her eyes trained on his face, fascinated to note that he couldn’t quite meet her eyes and for the first time ever felt in control and powerful around this man who so unsettled her at times. She deliberately dropped her arms and braced them on either side of her plate, before leaning toward him. She was rewarded by the brief, panicked glance he directed down at her cleavage before dragging his eyes back up to her face—and even then he couldn’t seem to look higher than her mouth. Deciding to test him even further, she flicked out her tongue to moisten her lower lip and noted the convulsive movement of his throat as he swallowed while his eyes tracked the slow, deliberate movement of her tongue with ferocious concentration.
“I’m not changing the way I dress after all these years, Gabe,” she told him—and his eyes snapped back into focus as they met hers. “It’s never bothered you before, so what’s different now?”
“It doesn’t bother me.” Two blatant lies in as many minutes. Bobbi was starting to enjoy herself.
“Then why mention it?” she pushed.
“Just forget I said anything.” He picked up his knife and fork with hands that were trembling ever so slightly. She didn’t respond and kept staring at him until he put the cutlery down again. “You don’t understand men, Bobbi . . . they’re easily aroused and . . .” Her rich laughter cut him off and the sound halted his awkward lecture mid-sentence.
“Gabe, I’m not naïve. I don’t need you to explain the birds and the bees to me. Trust me, you’re years too late with that particular lecture.”
“What do you mean by that, exactly?” His voice had taken on a dangerous edge and she merely smiled at him.
“That’s nothing you need to concern yourself over,” she said dismissively, with a flick of her hand. She picked up her own utensils and dug into her meal with relish, suddenly feeling inordinately cheerful. “Eat your lunch, it’s getting cold.” He bristled at the dismissal and even though he tried to broach the subject again, she ignored him and raved about the Corvette instead, telling him what she had planned for the car.
“I know you think I’m being foolish by investing so much into this,” she said after running out of steam since Gabe had contributed nothing more to the conversation than grunts and nods, making her sharply aware of the other criticisms that he had leveled at her business sense earlier before he had distracted her by bringing her lack of dress sense into the conversation.
“I would be less concerned if you had a long-term plan for the business,” he admitted. “But I didn’t mean to make it sound like I had no confidence in your ability to make a success out of the shop, Bobbi.” Unfortunately, that was exactly how it sounded and Bobbi was still hurt by his lack of faith in her. Gabe had always made her feel like he had the utmost belief in her ability to achieve everything she set her mind to. That’s why the doubt, the outright cynicism, she had heard from him earlier had cut so deeply. Now, she shrugged and—as she always did when he inadvertently hurt her—brushed it aside in order to make him feel better.
“It’s okay.” It’s not okay. Her subconscious was riled. “I know you’re just concerned.” I don’t need your concern! I need your support. I want you to have faith in me and in what I can do.
She didn’t voice what she was really feeling—as was always the case when it came to Gabe. She remained mute . . . for the sake of their friendship.
Relieved to have things back on an even keel, Gabe smiled at her. He hadn’t even glanced at her breasts in over ten minutes and he’d barely thought about them in well over a minute. Thankfully she’d left her uncomfortable line of questioning behind and they were back in familiar territory. His unfair—if not unfounded—zinger about her plans for Jason’s car had been forgiven. Things were practically back to normal . . . until Jason ambled over to their table with a tall, smiling guy in tow.
“Hey guys, mind if we join you?” He didn’t wait for an affirmative and dragged a couple of chairs over and waved the guy into one before plonking down into the other.
“Gabe, Bobbi, this is Kyle Foster—an old friend of mine.” The man reached over and shook Gabe’s hand firmly before angling his chair toward Bobbi’s and taking her hand in a gentler grasp and bringing it to his lips.
“Charmed.” He grinned and Bobbi laughed—clearly enjoying the guy’s smarmy attentions.
“So Bobbi, huh? That’s an unusual name.” He kept his voice low and intimate and it grated on Gabe’s last nerve.
“Well, it’s Roberta, actually. Roberta Richmond.” Gabe couldn’t believe he’d just heard that. She never told anybody her full name. For her to simply volunteer it was highly unusual.
“So Gabe, I wanted to ask for your advice on a couple of investments I’m interested in making,” Jason was saying, trying to gain his attention but Gabe could barely focus on his friend, far too interested in the low-voiced conversation between Bobbi and Foster.
“Hey, mate,” Jason waved a hand in front of Gabe’s eyes, demanding his attention, and Gabe blinked over at him.
“What?” he snapped, his voice low and frustrated. Jason leaned in toward him.
“Work with me here, bro.” He kept his voice low enough for only Gabe to hear. “Kyle wanted to meet Bobbi. Guy’s smitten—so give him a chance to chat her up. He’s a decent bloke.”
He was setting Bobbi up with this jerk? Gabe practically choked on a sip of beer and had to do everything in his power not to glare at Jason. He focused his attention back on Bobbi and Foster and was alarmed to note that the guy was whispering in her ear and she was listening to whatever he was saying with a delighted smile on her face. That smile was goddamned radiant and it set his teeth completely on edge. Gabe couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled at him like that. In fact, he couldn’t recall her ever smiling at him like that.
“Bobbi,” he growled. “Time to go.”
Jason swore, keeping his voice low so that only Gabe could hear him. “Come on, Gabe . . . they’re hitting it off.”
“I don’t mind driving her back to her shop,” Foster volunteered. Gabe was about to tell him what to do with that unwelcome offer when Bobbi agreed to the guy�
��s suggestion. He was completely outvoted when Jason enthusiastically agreed that it was a brilliant idea.
“Bobbi?” He kept his voice reasonable and his eyes level but she barely glanced at him.
“I’m fine, Gabe, I’m sure Kyle will make sure that I get back safely.” Her casual dismissal stung like hell, and Gabe felt irrationally betrayed by it. He dug his wallet out of his jacket pocket and left enough cash on the table to cover both of their meals. He strode away without a backward glance, ignoring the chorus of cheerful “see you’s” that followed him out the door.
When he got to his car, he braced his hands on the roof of the car and dragged in a deep breath. He glanced through the pub’s windows and saw Bobbi laughing at something Foster had just said and barely refrained from kicking at his tire.
Okay, so he was attracted to her but he couldn’t possibly be jealous, could he? Bobbi hooking up with some other guy might be just what he needed to get over this ridiculous desire he felt for her.
He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, and climbed into his car. He was just overtired and horny. He needed rest and a woman in his life. Rest he could take care of immediately, and he had always had a few prospects in the female companionship department. He just wished he could drum up a bit of enthusiasm at the thought of spending time with some other woman when it was Bobbi that he couldn’t stop fantasizing about.
Bobbi genuinely liked Kyle Foster; he was witty and charming and she found herself enjoying his company on the drive back to her shop. When he drew the car to a stop, she invited him in to have a look around.
“I’d love that,” he enthused, climbing out and hurrying around to the passenger side to open the car door for her. It was a charming gesture that very few men had ever performed for the tomboyish Bobbi, and she was completely flattered by it.
His Unlikely Lover (Unwanted #3) Page 7